


Bending the Rules

by thebest_medicine



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Mojo, Bondage, DeanCas - Freeform, Destiel - Freeform, Fluff, M/M, Mojo - Freeform, Tickle fic, Tickling, Ticklish Castiel, Ticklish Dean, Ticklish Dean Winchester, ticklish cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-10
Updated: 2014-04-30
Packaged: 2018-03-09 22:52:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3267341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebest_medicine/pseuds/thebest_medicine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean makes Cas promise not to tickle him for 24 hours, but Cas finds a way around it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Deal Is..

"Dehehehean- Dean stahahaHAHAHAHOPPIT! Ahahaha plehehe-please!" Cas shrieked as the hunter spidered a hand all over the angel’s stomach, the other hand pinning both of Castiel’s off to the side.

"I’ll stop…. If you promise to stop tickling me all the damn time!" Dean smirked.

"Hehehe- but it’s ahaha- fun-" Cas protested.

Dean sighed, knowing that Cas loved making him smile and laugh and that he wouldn’t give it up for the world. He settled on a compromise in his mind, “Fine. One day at least then. 24 hours without you trying to poke me or tickle me.”

"But- HahahAHAHA OKAY- OKAY HEHEHEYES! Stahahahop! DehehEAN!" Cas squealed when Dean attacked the angel’s armpits.

Dean grinned victoriously and ruffled the flustered angel’s hair.

…

The day progressed quite peacefully, Dean not paranoid that nimble fingers would appear at his sides and tickle him until he collapsed to the ground in a heap of giggles.  
Cas was pouting; Dean could tell by the way the angel’s lower lip puffed out just a little more than usual, the way his eyes were slightly narrowed and rarely made contact with Dean’s.

Dean decided to take this opportunity and milk it for all it was worth. He started doing little things, stretching his arm out right by Cas as he reached into a cabinet in the kitchen for something, putting his feet in Castiel’s lap when they laid on the couch. Cas was practically scowling at him. And Dean loved every minute of it.

When the evening turned to night and the pair climbed into bed, Dean took extra care to stretch his arms up and lay with them behind his head, a smug grin lighting his features. Cas half rolled his eyes, grumbling before a mischievous idea popped into his head. The angel turned to Dean and sighed, “I’m still allowed to touch you right? Just no tickling?” He wiggled his fingers in the air for emphasis.

Dean smirked, “Well yeah.”

That was all Cas needed to hear before he was rolling to a sitting position, straddling Dean’s thighs. Dean’s pupils dilated as he sucked in a breath out of excitement. Cas leaned down and kissed him, taking things at a slower pace. His fingers weaved between Dean’s as he ground his hips against the hunter’s. Dean let out a moan into the kiss and Cas practically forgot his entire plan.

Cas worked his hands under Dean’s shirt and began tugging it up, brushing against Dean’s sides and ribs on the way as he whisked it off.

"Hehehey!" Dean giggled, squirming beneath the angel, "I said no tickling, bitch."

"My apologies, I didn’t mean to." Cas lied. He gave Dean a quick peck on the nose, "Forgive me?" Dean could’ve sworn in that moment that it wasn’t an angel but an adorable blue eyed puppy sitting over him.

"Can’t stay mad at you." Dean grinned, pulling Cas back down toward his lips.

Cas kissed him again, then began trailing his kisses down over Dean’s jawline and to his neck. Dean let out a happy sigh, tilting his head to allow Cas more access.

The angel was more than happy to oblige. He kissed and nipped along Dean’s neck, then managed to get at this spot right under Dean’s ear. Dean gasped, his toes curling as he attempted to fight the urge to scrunch up. It still felt fantastic and Cas…probably wasn’t doing it on purpose, but it tickled like hell.

What started off as a moan quickly dissolved into giggles before Dean could stop it. “Cahahas-“

"What’s so funny, hmm?" Cas quirked up an eyebrow, watching Dean with a calculated expression of confusion.

Dean sighed, “N-Nothing. It’s- you’re fine. Great actually.” He smiled shyly, not wanting Cas to stop.

Cas did his best to suppress the smirk that threatened to creep its way onto his face. He leaned back to Dean’s neck, kissing and sucking and ghosting his lips over the most sensitive patches of skin, which left Dean a squirming, borderline-giggly mess.

Cas slowly started to move down, kissing Dean’s collarbone, chest and down to his stomach. He planted light kisses all over Dean’s skin, which made him twitch and fight back the urge to laugh. Dean was damn sure that Cas was doing this on purpose, the little shit, but even though it tickled, it still felt nice. Damn that sneaky angel bastard.

“Cas.” Dean finally protested, “Thahahat’s so cheating.”

"What do you mean?" Cas blinked, pausing to look up at Dean.

"You know damn well.” Dean gave him a stern look.

"Do you want me to stop?" Cas tilted his head totally not adorably.

"I…Well no…" Dean said in a small voice, eyes narrowing as though he was conflicted. He finally gave up and chuckled half-heartedly, "Damn you."

Cas grinned, then returned to kissing Dean’s stomach, at which point Dean returned to giggling and smiling and squirming happily.

Castiel’s hands had reached up and were holding onto Dean at the bottoms of his ribs. Another idea popped into the angel’s head and he let a small amount of his mojo release from where his hands were pressed, swirling it out between Dean’s ribs and letting it spark against his nerves.

Dean shrieked and burst into laughter at the unfamiliar sensation. “CAS- whahahahat the hehehehehell?!”

Cas stared up at him in surprise, immediately pulling back and removing his hands.

“That is absolutely not fair.” Dean tried to glare at him, but a laughter-induced smile still lingered on his face.

Cas glanced from his hands to Dean’s face. He hadn’t expected that to work that well, and it had only been Dean’s ribs — ticklish but nothing like his hips — so he couldn’t imagine what would happen if he tried that again somewhere even more ticklish. Cas fought a tiny smile at the thought.

But then he remembered he had promised Dean a full day without tickling…. And he was already bending the rules a little with his tickly kisses.

"Okay, not fair." Cas raised his hands in surrender, "For now, that is. Once this ‘24 ban’ is lifted, I’ll have to try that again."

Dean’s swallowed hard and felt a nervous shiver run down his spine. This angel was going to be the end of him, he swore.


	2. Time's Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The 24 mark is up and Cas is allowed to tickle Dean as he pleases again.

"Dean, do you have the time?" Cas asked casually as they sat on the couch.

"Hmm?" Dean glanced at his watch, "Yeah, it’s 3:15… Wait-" Realization lit up in Dean’s eyes as it dawned on him that they’d just passed the final minute of Castiel’s 24 hour promise to not tickle him, "H-Hold on a second- Don’t-"

Cas was doing his best to hide a smirk; he crawled toward the hunter on the couch, eyes dark and devious.

"Don’t? But I have to test out how well this works." Cas wiggled his fingers slightly, moving himself to hover over Dean, who was now backed against the corner of the couch.

"Y-You really don’t have to." Dean laughed nervously, shrinking in on himself as his eyes shifted nervously between the angel’s evil smirk and eager hands.

Cas raised a brow, “If our roles were reversed, I’m certain you wouldn’t just stop now.” He let his mouth curve up at its corners — rather than his smile coming off as cute, Dean thought it more resembled the damn Grinch — “Besides…” Cas continued, “Aren’t you the least bit curious?”  
"Not in particular." Dean grunted defiantly, trying to worm his way out from under the angel, who at this point had cut off any hope for the hunter to escape.

Mischief danced in Castiel’s eyes, which were bright with excitement and curiosity. His hand moved quickly and squeezed once against Dean’s side. Dean drew in a breath and glared up at the angel.

"I think that anticipation plays a key role here, don’t you agree, Dean?" Cas spoke with a surgical, serious tone, one that made Dean’s skin crawl with nerves.

"Don’t know what you mean- I’m not nervous at all." Dean growled, watching the angel like a hawk for any sudden movements.

"I never said that you were nervous, Dean." Cas quirked up an eyebrow, "But now that you mention it… Your pulse is at an elevated rate, your eyes are following my every move, and you seem quite tense."

Dean glared daggers at the angel, who only continued his informative assessment.

"All of those signs seem to point toward the feeling of nervousness… anxiety…"

Dean tried to kick his legs but was rewarded with another squeeze to the side, and then Cas plopped down on the tops of his thighs, pinning him into place and trapping him between himself and the couch.

Cas looked Dean up and down slowly, “Perhaps you feel nervous because you know that there’s no hope of you getting out of this. That I can keep you here, tickle you for as long as I like…” Castiel’s fingers travelled slowly up the hunter’s side and to his chest and eventually his neck. Dean’s skin twitched along the trail of the angel’s fingers.

"Cahas- don’t." Dean whined, fighting the smile that threatened to sneak its way onto his face.

"Don’t what?" Cas hummed, moving his fingers down Dean’s torso to ever-so-slowly dance across the dark tee and tease the freckled skin beneath.

"I’m not falling for that!" Dean growled. He coughed to cover up a laugh, squirming noticeably.

"Oh, well that’s too bad." Cas sighed, "I suppose we’ll just have to start then." He immediately started scribbling over Dean’s ribs and brought his second hand into play, prodding and tickling Dean’s stomach with more purpose. Dean bit his lip, eyes squeezing shut as he focused on anything but Castiel’s teasing fingers.

"Don’t hold out on me, Dean. You know how much I love to see you smile." Cas grinned, amping up the speed of his tickling. Dean grunted and choked back a laugh when the fingertips skimmed over the litter of bad spots on his stomach. His mouth twitched up at the corners, but his resolve was hardened; he didn’t want to give the angel the satisfaction of him falling apart just yet.

At least, he tried to keep it together. Until, of course, Cas sent out little pulses of his grace and power, flicking and fluttering on and somehow practically within Dean’s skin. Dean gasped, throwing his head back before dissolving into laughter as his legs kicked out helplessly behind the angel.

"Plehehehease- not that!" Dean cried. Cas wasn’t used to him begging this soon. It intrigued the angel.

Cas tilted his head curiously, “Tell me what it feels like.”

"Whahahat?" Dean giggled while his arms flailed about in a futile attempt to ward off the angel and his mojo.

"My power, my grace.. twisting and vibrating against you, I imagine it is maddening." Cas commented.

"Yohohohou don’t say!" Dean retorted, which earned him a much more focused prodding and tickling from this god awful angel mojo down near the bottom of his stomach, "Hahahano ohmygod Cas stahahahop!"

"Describe it to me." Cas narrowed his eyes as he evaluated Dean’s reactions. The way his shoulders and eyes scrunched up as he laughed.

"It fuhuhucking tickles you ahahahass!" Dean snapped back, losing track of where exactly he was being tickled because the damn sensation was spreading. And on top of it Cas was still using his hands, which were now prodding between his lower ribs and making him buck.

"You are not being very cooperative, Dean." Cas tsked, "I would just like to know what this feels like, since I cannot experience it for myself."

"Wehehehell bully for you!" Dean retorted, surprised himself that he could even manage a response. Dean squealed when Castiel’s hands slipped down to scribble at his hips in retaliation, sending the pulsing tickly mojo out from that area and all around his stomach.

"Perhaps you need a bit more incentive."

Despite Dean’s struggles and protests and flailing, Cas managed to get a hold of the hunter’s hands. He paused his tickle attack for a moment and used another ounce of his power to bind Dean’s hands together behind his back as though cuffed, which made Dean’s stomach all the more stretched and exposed for him to play with.

"How’s this?" Castiel hid a smile.

Dean’s eyes widened when he realized his hands were trapped; he shook his head desperately. Cas just lifted his eyebrows as a smug grin settled on his face.

Dean put on his best serious face, “Don’t you even dare.”

The hunter dug his heels into the couch, disturbing the cushions as he fought to get out from underneath the seemingly sadistic angel.

"There’s something else I would like to try." Cas said before pondering a thought silently.

"Don’t you think you’ve tried enough?" Dean attempted to discourage him.

Ignoring him, Cas began focusing on Dean’s stomach; he sent another pulse of intangible, tickly vibration across Dean’s skin, this time without even having to touch him.

Dean’s eyes widened in surprise and horror when he realized that Cas had done that without physically touching him. He barked out a ‘no’ before losing himself in cackling, desperate laughter.

"I can tickle you anywhere I want without even touching you… And there’s really nothing you can do to stop me." Cas grinned with satisfaction.

"Stahahahop fucking tehe-teasing mehehehe you dick! AhahahaHAHASTOP!" Dean growled through his laughter.

Dean twisted and bucked and squirmed as the angel spread the feeling to his ribs and swirled it in his armpits, then shot it down to work over his hips — which he couldn’t stay at very long because Dean’s laughter turned silent and desperate — then turned around to face his legs and sent pulses to Dean’s thighs, knees, and even between his toes and over his soles. Dean was a giggly mess on the couch by the time Cas finally stopped.

Cas gently slid his fingers over Dean’s tummy and sides, tracing the skin through the fabric of his shirt ever so gently. It left Dean jumpy and giggling as he caught his breath but gave him the time to regain a little strength. “That was…” Cas struggled for the right word, “Interesting.”

Dean tried his best to give the angel a death glare, “All that was… is completely and utterly unfair. You can’t do stuff to me that I can’t do to you.” Dean pouted.

"Do you have wings, Dean?"

"What does that have to do with- what kind of a qu- what? No." Dean gave Cas a sideways look.

"Then I suppose that there’s no way I can get you back fairly for tickling my wings, since you don’t have them. You seem to do that a lot, despite the fact that I would never be able to…repay you in the same way."

Dean looked down with pink cheeks, “Shut up.”

"I believe I’ve heard the saying before…’all’s fair in love and war’?" Cas raised a brow.

"I wouldn’t say that applies to-" Dean started, rolling his eyes. Cas cut him off with a poke to the side.

"Alright, alright!" Dean pulled at his hands, "At least untie me you jackass."

"You are not tied anywhere, Dean, merely bound by-"

"I got it. Just get me out of it." Dean grumbled, tugging impatiently at his arms.

"So, what was it like?" Cas asked after he freed Dean, feeling curious and a little proud of himself.

"Horrible." Dean laughed, hitting the angel on the arm half-heartedly, "What’s having ticklish wings like?"

"Horrible." Cas mirrored, grinning. Certainly both of them found the different sensations crazy and ticklish and maddening, but honestly? Both of them were lying when they said it was horrible.


	3. Abuse of Power

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas has figured out that he can tickle Dean using his mojo any time he wants, and he really takes advantage of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An addition from the lovely fantastically-fictional to this verse.

"C’mon, Cas, we gotta try this place- apparently they’ve got really good pie."

Cas didn’t want to abandon his comfy place on the couch or his book, but the way Dean’s green eyes sparkled with excitement made him have to roll his own blue ones with endearment. This boy and his darn pie. Cas let a small smile play at his lips as he set down his book and stood.

Dean beamed at him, and Cas’ trench coat billowed out behind him as the hunter grabbed his wrist and tugged him excitedly to the bunker entrance.

___

Cas sat in the opposite diner booth seat across from Dean, watching him devour his pie excitedly, freckles jumping around his puffed out cheeks while he chewed.

Dean didn’t even reprimand Cas for staring creepily, like he normally would. The only thing he cared about right now was his pie; he barely even noticed Cas’ eyes stuck on him. And frankly, it bugged Cas that a piece of pie was getting more of Dean’s attention than he was.

Dean was just swallowing his last bite of pie when he felt a vague tingling in the bend of his waist. He didn’t really pay attention to it, just nonchalantly rubbing at the spot with his elbow. But it didn’t rub away the sensation. Quite the opposite, actually- the sensation began to intensify and spread. It was now affecting both of his sides, and it turned from that light tingling to something heavier, smoother, more constant and fluid. The feeling was impossible to put into words, really; just a general, indescribable tickling sensation. That was it. That was the only way to describe it, Dean thought. It. Just. Really. Tickled. That’s how it felt.

Now that Dean thought about it, it could probably be most accurately, but still not entirely correctly, described as this: it didn’t feel like fingers. There was no poking, or wiggling, or scratching. It didn’t feel like feathers. There was no discernible soft brush against his skin. It was just the feeling that came after those things- that pleasant, electric, teasing sensation under his skin that made him want nothing more than to laugh and laugh. It was that feeling, all on its own. No fingers, feathers, or anything else needed. Only…only angel grace.

Dean had only experienced this particular type of tickling…twice before…his eyes widened as he looked up at Cas. The angel was wearing the same mischievous smirk he’d worn the last two times he’d done this.

"C-" Dean swallowed back the giggles that were already bubbling up in his chest, "C-cas, we’re in pub-ah-public.”

"I’m aware, Dean."

The feeling was starting to weave up into the hunter’s lower ribs. “W-well? C’mon, if you’re gonna do this let’s please go home f-fihirst!”

"But Dean, we can’t go home, the waitress hasn’t brought our bill."

The tickling was snaking up Dean’s entire ribcage now, wrapping around and twisting between every bone. Dean sucked in a sharp breath, squirming in his seat. “D-dahamit, Castiel, I swear to your father-augh! Hehehe-”

Dean clamped his mouth shut to compose himself when those first giggles started slipping out. He took a moment, regained his control, and tried again, “Who gives a shit a-about…t-the bill…rrgh…let’s just leave a twenty on the table and go-ho.”

"Dean, that would be impolite. I’d like to thank our waitress for her kind service. We’re waiting."

The sensation lapped teasingly at Dean’s armpits, and he clamped his arms tightly to his sides- it was just instinct, really, he knew nothing he was physically capable of could block out the angel’s tormenting grace. He was forced to sit and endure it. Castiel could tickle him anywhere he wanted, without even touching him, and Dean had to try and pretend that nothing was happening.

When the grace fully tickled up into Dean’s underarms, he squeaked and jumped in his seat. He had to clamp a hand over his mouth to keep quiet as the unbearable sensation swirled deep into the hollows of his armpits. Deans chest was shaking in silent, held-in laughter by the time Cas finally gave him a break, drawing his grace out of Dean’s underarms to glide across his collarbone instead. A few people had turned to look at Dean curiously, hearing his huffs and squeaks.

Dean took a deep breath through his nose, blushing. One by one the people turned away.

By now, there were so many giggles built up in Dean’s chest, that even if the tickling were to stop completely, Dean was sure if he opened his mouth he’d burst out laughing. So he didn’t risk it. He was grateful he was at least able to breathe normally through his nose again, getting some oxygen back.

"What’s so funny, Dean?"

Dean shot a glare at Cas, not daring to answer.

Cas raised an eyebrow. The tickling crept down his chest, leaving his collarbone in favor of seeping into the central pudge of Dean’s tummy. Dean flinched and gasped, once again having to actively fight to stifle laughter as he curled in on himself, bending over the table. His free hand, the one that wasn’t holding back giggles at his mouth, wrapped around his quivering belly.

Then, as if it couldn’t get nay worse, the sensation changed once again. It had been that solid, smooth tickle- somewhat like the feeling that would come after a sharp poke to the side (except without the physical poke, of course…damn angel mojo) up until this point. But now, as if Castiel had simply grown bored with that type of tickling, he switched it back to its initial type of tingly, almost vibrating tickle that prickled titillatingly beneath Dean’s skin.

Before, it had been a light, gentle tingle across Dean’s skin- now, however, it was an intense, electric tingle that stimulated Dean’s nerve endings and reverberated throughout his entire peripheral nervous system.

Dean was convinced he was basically being electrocuted…with tickles.

Giggles started to burble out, muffled by the hunter’s hand. He really didn’t stand a chance against laughing, not any more. Every wave and spark and pulse of tickling sent these exhilarating signals into his nerves, up his spine, straight into his brain; these signals that screamed for him to laugh. And laugh, and laugh, and laugh.

Dean was steadily writhing in his booth by now, eyes clamped shut, face completely red, a huge smile on his face that was barely contained by his hand; the hand that was basically doing no good in hiding Dean’s squeals. And more people were noticing, glancing strangely at Dean, making Dean’s face even redder.

Dean’s second hand clawed desperately at his stomach, but nothing lessened the delightfully yet unbearably amusing sensation that surged into his belly.

About half the diner was now watching the crazy guy in the corner booth, clutching his stomach and giggling.

"Really, Dean, what are you laughing about?" Castiel asked. "You look absolutely…what’s the phrase again?…tickled pink.”

Dean didn’t even have the mental capacity to glare at Cas as he jerked and twitched and squirmed, throwing his head back hard when a particularly tickly bit of grace twirled its way into his navel.

Castiel finally abandoned Dean’s stomach and instead wrapped his invisible tickles around Dean’s back. The angel let some linger in the small of the hunter’s back while others were simultaneously permeating beneath his shoulder blades, eliciting quieter, breathier chuckles and allowing Dean to calm down, his squirming lessening.

"Dean, people are staring. You should keep it down." Cas reprimanded playfully.

"Ihihihi sahahahahaid wehehehe shohohohohould leheheheheave hehehehe!" Dean whispered through his hand, arching his back with the light tickling there.

Then, suddenly, Cas just stopped tickling altogether. Out of nowhere, it all just stopped, the tingles receding. Dean gulped in a breath, finally able to take his hand away from his mouth without laughing.

The waitress, who had seen Dean’s squirmy, giggly, flustered condition and had not went to the table because of it, finally made her way awkwardly over with the bill when she saw it had stopped.

"Umm…I have your bill."

Cas smiled innocently up at her. “Thank you very much. I apologize for the commotion, I told a very funny joke and my boyfriend here seems to be in quite a giggly mood tonight.”

She smiled back at Cas, thankfully not acknowledging the fiercely blushing hunter on the other side of the booth. “That’s okay,” she took the money Cas handed her, “Come back here again. Enjoy the remainder of your evening.”

"Oh, I will," Cas replied, and Dean knew if the bastard hadn’t been playing innocent, he would have winked.

A minute after the waitress left, Dean made a move to stand up. Just as his butt lifted off the seat, Cas playfully yelled, “Look out, Dean!” And an instant surge of ticklishness was pumped straight into the hunter’s hips, encompassing the bones and coursing into the skin around them.

A shriek left Dean’s mouth and he unceremoniously toppled over, landing in a thrashing heap on the floor. He curled into a tight ball, forgetting about where he was and how many people were around as he could focus on nothing but how badly his hips were being tickled. He was flailing and kicking, fists pounding and feet drumming against the floor. For a few moments, his desperate screeching laughter had resounded loudly throughout the entire diner. But now, it became completely silent with helpless mirth, aside from an occasional squeak or snort.

Someone spoke up. “Should we…I mean…call 911 or something?”

Another random voice. “Is he having a seizure?”

Every single pair of eyes in the diner was on a laughing, spasming Dean. Some looked worried, others confused, others amused.

A few seconds later, the tickling once again just stopped all at once, leaving Dean gasping and twitching.

"Dean?" Cas asked, satisfaction apparent in his voice.

Dean couldn’t respond, couldn’t comprehend anything other than the residual tingles running through his hip bones. All he knew was that he felt someone scoop him up off the ground, hefting him into the air. He was vaguely aware of his favorite deep, gravelly voice expressing its “sincere apologies for my boyfriend’s uncalled-for antics and the disturbance it caused.” Then a rush of comfortingly cool air hit Dean’s burning cheeks as he was carried out the door.

When they arrived at the Impala, Dean had recovered enough to wriggle around in Cas’ grip, fighting to be let go. Cas obliged, setting Dean to the ground on shaky legs.

"That…that wahas…"

Cas quirked an amused eyebrow. He’d only tickled Dean’s hips for a matter of seconds, ten at the very most. And yet minutes later, Dean was still red in the face and trembling and having trouble speaking without giggling. Cas’ mojo had to have tickled extremely bad to affect Dean to this extent; even for his hips, which were notorious for disorienting him when they were tickled, it affected him more than anything else ever had. And Castiel was beaming at the fact that it was his grace that’d had that effect.

If Dean could have heard Cas’ thoughts, he’d have certainly agreed. When Cas’ grace had struck his hips, it was like nothing Dean had ever felt before. It had been like a tickly explosion going off at his hips, then the radiation spreading throughout every other inch of his body afterward, his entire body head to toe vibrating with the most intense tickles Dean had ever felt in his entire life. It left him helplessly incapacitated with the laughable sensations. It had felt like pure happiness coursing through his veins, sinking into every nerve- yeah, happy, but also at the same time, it had been the worst torture Dean could imagine.

Dean had finally recovered as he came out of his shudder-inducing nostalgia of a few minutes ago, and pointed a commanding finger at Cas. “You. Back seat. Now.”

Cas dropped his head, smile dimming a bit. He figured Dean was angry and didn’t want Cas to sit up front with him. He raised puppy eyes at Dean, but Dean immediately turned away before he could be affected by them.

Cas sighed, opening the back door of the Impala and sliding in. He was about to pull the door closed when an unexpected force stopped it. He looked up to see Dean’s hand there, holding the door open as said hunter climbed in. He pushed Cas back to make room for himself, closing the door behind them as the angel scooted back and the hunter crawled over him.

"Dean…?"

Dean smirked wickedly, straddling Castiel, who, with Dean’s advances, had ended up laying on his back, sprawled across the whole backseat. Dean pinned him at the hips with his body weight then promptly slipped a hand beneath Cas’ trench coat, brushing his fingertips over the angel’s side. Cas gasped and smiled, looking at Dean with bright but confused eyes. Dean looked absolutely devious. He leaned down to breathe right into Castiel’s ear.

"If you scream too loud, people might still hear us, even from out here…you’ve certainly screamed loud enough before," Dean chuckled darkly, "And I think you’ve caused enough trouble already tonight, haven’t you?"

Cas whined. “Dean, I won’t object to you doing this, but let’s just go home first-“

Dean tsk’d against Cas’ ear. “Nuh-uh. The ‘let’s just go home’ card didn’t work for me in the diner, did it? So here’s the deal. We’re staying here. In this parking lot, in this car. And I’m gonna tickle you- mercilessly. I’m gonna tickle you to the brink of insanity, to tears. And you know what you’re gonna do?”

Cas shook his head.

Dean dropped his voice, purring in a low, lethal tone, “You’re gonna keep quiet.”

Cas sucked in a breath, already giggling just from Dean’s words and his warm breath tickling against his ear. “Dehehean, you know I can’t do thahahahahat, it’s gonna tickle too muhuhuhuch, come on!” Castiel pleaded. “You can tickle me all you want and I won’t complain, if we just go hohohohome and do it thehehehehere!”

Dean just slunk away from Cas’ ear, leaning back to look at his angel. Castiel was already wearing a ridiculously big smile, giggling nervously- his eyes looking anxious, yet also sparkling with excitement and happiness.

Dean wasted no more time. He set to work, starting out slow by walking his fingertips up and down both of Cas’ sides. Cas took a shaky breath, sucking his lower lip between his teeth and clamping his mouth shut. His hands shot out to grip Dean’s offending wrists, but he didn’t actually apply any force to shove them away; it just helped him control his laughter more by holding onto them, for some reason. Cas and Dean both knew that Cas could have escaped minutes ago, by just zapping out of there. He could easily push Dean’s tickling hands away with his mojo. But he didn’t. Cas was having fun; as unbearably torturous as it was, he enjoyed these little games he and Dean played. And he had to admit, when their games involved these torturously happy, teasing, laughter-inducing touches, Cas loved it even more.

So, Castiel simply held loosely onto Dean’s wrists, biting his lip to suppress giggles that were already swirling around in his stomach in response to the pleasant feelings caused by Dean’s fingers on his skin.

Dean untucked Cas’ dress shirt and slipped his hands under it to tickle the angel’s soft bare skin. Fingertips skittered up Cas’ belly, and Cas audibly squeaked before clenching his jaw even harder than before to keep any more noise from slipping out. Dean swirled a finger into Cas’ belly button and wiggled it around, grinning at the way Cas arched his body up and scrunched his nose in his fight not to laugh.

"Shh! Don’t laugh, Cas!" Dean reminded in a hushed voice.

Cas shook his head back and forth, not daring to to open his mouth to supply a sarcastic remark to Dean’s teasing, knowing as soon as he tried he’d burst out giggling.

Dean’s hands climbed higher and higher under Cas’ shirt, dancing their way up his ribcage and spreading back out to his sides until they reached his underarms. When the fingers tickled in Cas’ armpits, Cas clamped his arms to his sides. But Dean’s fingers kept wiggling against the sensitive skin anyway. Cas snorted, falling into muffled, half-suppressed giggles and squeals.

Then Dean wrapped his arms all the way around Castiel and dug his fingers into Cas’ shoulder blades- right where his wings would be sprouting from, if they were physical in this dimension- and all hope was lost for Cas. He immediately exploded with laughter; laughter that was deep and loud and desperate, but at the same time happy and bright and buoyant. He bucked his hips and threw his head back, rolling his shoulders.

Dean continued tickling as he said, “Oh no, Cas, you laughed! I told you not to. I honestly thought you’d last longer than that. I guess you’re just too ticklish for your own good, huh?” Dean smiled. “Since you didn’t listen, now you need to be punished.”

Dean wriggled his fingers right into the indents under Cas’ shoulder blades, and at the same time leaned down and blew raspberries all over Cas’ lower tummy. Cas screamed, kicking his feet behind Dean and shoving at the hunter’s chest.

Dean was merciless, as he’d promised. He tickled Cas- in his two worst spots- for a good six or seven minutes, by which point he was pretty sure he actually had driven Castiel into insanity. The angel’s red face was covered in mirthful tears and sweat, his hair was messed beyond repair, and he was laughing so hard that had he not been an angel, he’d have passed out minutes ago. But Dean smiled with the realization that still, that whole time, Cas hadn’t zapped out or used his mojo to make Dean stop. He’d enjoyed it all, and that adorable fact made Dean’s heart absolutely melt.

Castiel beamed up at Dean. The angel had just been reduced to a giggly squirmy mess, but he looked happier than ever. Dean ruffled his hair and pecked a kiss to his nose.

Suddenly the hunter felt something invisible tickling against his foot. He looked accusingly at Cas before falling on top of him in laughter. He squeezed Cas’ sides in retaliation through his own giggles.

For quite a long time that night, the Impala was filled with both a hunter’s and an angel’s laughter, ringing out sweetly and merrily.


End file.
